From the Ashes
by Amanda N. Lupin
Summary: Moments after the death of Bellatrix, her cousin Sirius was found on the floor in the Department of Mysteries. Overwhelmed by guilt, Hermione flees from the wizarding world. Can the magical world afford to lose the brightest witch of the age?


It was nothing short of a miracle; all her years of hard work come to fruition, and yet, Hermione did not feel much like celebrating. Ever since he had fallen through the veil, Hermione, had searched tirelessly through every book that could be found, interviewed anyone who may have known something, in an effort to bring back her best friend's godfather. Now, moments after the death of Belatrix Lestrange, he had been found by a Ministry of Magic employee, weak and collapsed on the floor in the department of Mysteries.

But what had he come back to? There would be no great fights, no opportunities to redeem or to prove himself. The war was over, the battle won; Voldemort was dead. Instead, he came back to the living to mourn the loss of his last best friend, his cousin, and many more. He seemed not to have been rescued from despair, but merely moved from one to another sort.

He spoke little in the days after he returned. He and Harry both; they seemed to have a mutual understanding of one another's grief, which did not require words. Hermione avoided him; he was painful to look upon, even more so than when she had first met him: gaunt, starved, skeletal and wild from Azkaban... Now he was the embodiment of her failure. Whatever she had hoped to accomplish, for she could no longer be certain of her original intentions; she had failed.

Living in the house where before their murders under Voldemort's orders, her parents had lived; Hermione avoided not only Sirius, but anyone from the wizarding world who might be a reminder of the past seven years of her life. She shopped, ate and lived as a muggle, as though she had never been privy to the magical world at all; falling all the while, deeper and deeper, into a self-doubting, self-chastising, apathetic state.

After a few weeks had passed, she began to receive owls from her friends; mostly Harry and Ron, later Mrs. Weasley and others. At first, she ignored them; hoping the owls would eventually leave, when they did not she hoped instead that they would stay with her letters, preventing her friends from writing anymore. She should have known that they were smarter than that, she thought with a sad half-smile as she returned one day from shopping to find her foyer flooded with letters from her concerned friends, come in presumably through the letterbox. Finding an old shoebox, she collected the letters, sometimes rifling through them to see who they were from, but none of them were ever opened. She put away her groceries, before laying down exhausted on the couch to rest.

Not long into her nap, she heard a scratching and whining at the door. She groaned, that pesky neighborhood poodle would be ruining the paint, perhaps even the wood on her front door again. If it decides to defecate in the yard again, I'll kill it, she thought though she knew she had no energy or will to do so beyond fleeting thought. Go away, she chanted in her head as the scratching and whining continued.

"Scram!" she yelled finally, deciding that she was awake now. "Damn dog." she cursed under her breath throwing the throw back over the couch and standing to answer the door. No sooner had she done so, however, and the dog had taken to barking. And then she knew that it could not be that damned stupid mop from down the street, for it was a much louder, stronger sound, that could only have come from a much larger dog. Crookshanks had roused from his favorite seat in the sunny windowsill and wound his way around her legs purring affectionately, staring meaningfully at the door. "Yes, I know, Crookshanks." she sighed exasperatedly as she made her way to the door. But in fact she did not know, because if Hermione Granger had had any idea what was waiting just beyond the door, she would not likely have opened it; because behind the door sat a large, fiercely determined great black dog, the last person she believed she wanted to see.

Hermione opened the door and froze. The large black dog remained seated where he was on the porch, he made no attempts to squeeze in past her, merely sat there, staring up at her patiently through deep brown eyes, waiting. She felt her eyes beginning to fill with tears and forced them back, trying to force herself to think of the crossword in today's paper, what she had bought at the supermarket today, anything but the animal that sat in front of her on her front porch, waiting to be asked to come in, anything but the deep haunting brown eyes that were looking into hers; still the dog sat, unmoving, staring. Crookshanks, bearing none of the guilt of his owner, weaved through his master's legs out onto the porch, and brushed against the dog, purring warmly. The dog moved a leg against him in acknowledgment, but otherwise stood stalk still, his gaze never faltering. Hermione was becoming aware of neighbors sunning on their screen porches, or out mowing, beginning to stare at her with pitying and curious looks, the "rarely seen, poor orphaned young woman, whose parents had both perished in a car crash", she looked away as though their looking at her hurt.

"Well, come on in then." she sighed resignedly, moving aside for the big black dog, and Crookshanks to enter. She shut the door with a click, but paused before turning around, knowing that what would face her would be even worse than the big black dog from her porch. She felt a warm, strong hand on her shoulder and shuddered, slowly turning to face him.

"Your friends are worried about you Hermione." he said quietly.

"Well, you can tell them that I am in perfect health." she replied shortly, stalking off to the kitchen to put on a cup of tea.

"I am nobody's messenger owl." he growled. "Anyway I can't lie to them, especially not to Harry; besides, you don't look fine." Kettle forgotten in the sink, she wheeled about on her heels and glared at him, her hair a mess and bathrobe on over her wrinkled clothes. "I mean," he recovered, " you look beautiful, like always..." he muttered trailing off. She snorted disbelievingly, another one of his typical practical jokes to be sure, she thought, though she noticed to her confusion, he momentarily avoided her eyes; and was that, was he blushing? He paused for a moment before clearing his throat. "What I mean to say is that you look tired. Quite beaten, actually. You haven't been answering any of their letters. No one even knew where to find you."

"So, how did you find me then?" she asked a little tersely.

" I thought perhaps you might be living here, where your parents did, did a bit of research. Yes,I know, fancy me with a book 'eh?" he said grinning heading off her look of astonishment. "For someone who is accustomed to hiding, it is not so very difficult to find another person trying to do the same." he replied shrugging.

"I heard your a free man now." she whispered softly.

"Cleared of all charges; and awarded Order of Merlin second-class, though I don't know what the bloody hell for. Assuage the Ministry's guilt I suppose." he replied thoughtfully. "I've been told you had a good hand in clearing my name in my absence. Preserving my memory..." he added, he took her hand gently in his, staring into her amber eyes meaningfully.

"It was nothing, I..."

"It was a hell of a lot more than nothing. Come off it, I may have been gone awhile, but I wasn't born yesterday. It takes a great deal of courage to fight falsehood at risk to your own personal reputation, and it is no easy task taking on the Ministry of Magic itself. Why do you doubt yourself? Where is the beautiful, confident, young witch my godson and that crazy redhead were always trailing along with?" he asked, smiling warmly down at her. This was too much; she broke as Sirius had hoped she finally would, and as her knees weakened and finally gave out, dissolving in her tears, he caught her in his arms and held her to his chest. "It's okay." he whispered encouragingly into her ear. "Let it out." he let a hand comb gently through her hair in reassuring gesture.

"Oh Sirius." she sobbed softly. "I'm sorry." she choked.

"What in Merlin's name for?" he asked, looking down at her as she lifted her head from his chest to meet his eyes.

"I wanted to bring you back. You made everyone laugh; and you did help the Order, Snape was just trying to get a rise out of you. I thought, since you fell through the veil, there must have been some way you could come back...I looked everywhere, read everything, and I couldn't...And now..."

"Now what?" he encouraged.

"Now what have you come back to? Remus, Tonks, Moony, Fred..." she began listing choking on each name. He put a finger on her lips to silence her.

"Their deaths are not, in any way, your fault."

"But I was so selfish, I just wanted you to come back, I didn't...I didn't think what I would be bringing you back to..." she burst, hugging his chest once more.

"We always knew there would be losses; death would have come at some time or another for all of us, with or without Voldemort's help." he assured her, leading her over to her living room, and helping her into a seat beside him on the couch. "Did it ever occur to you to think, what you might have been bringing me back from?" She shook her head, looking up into his deep brown eyes once more. "A nightmare to end all nightmares. Hell, if ever it can be imagined. I fell beyond the veil, and watched you all fight, and then leave while I was screaming myself hoarse, trying to get back to you. The people there, if you could call them that, they were all thieves, murderers, rapists...crazy, the whole lot of them, mad before they ever got to such a cursed place, but it certainly didn't help them. As best as I could figure, the veil was a sort of magical storage place, a holding cell for the souls the dementors suck out of the bodies. They kept calling for me, taunting me, telling me to move away from the veil and come join them in their sinfulness. The only thing that kept me was the thought of you, Harry, Remus, Tonks... If there was any chance I could ever get back, I knew it would not be in joining those monsters. So I stayed by the edge of the veil, just beyond reach of the living, but not out of sight of the warmth and light of it. It was never dark; it was all one, ever-lasting day. I was devastated to hear I missed Tonks and Remus' wedding, the birth of their son, fighting with everyone in the last stand against Voldemort, that I came back too late to say goodbye to my cousin, my best friend..." he continued, at this, she burst into furious renewed tears, face buried in her hands. "But that was when I realized it. They had already mourned me, said their goodbyes. They would have wanted the ones they love not to miss them, but remember them. Remus and Tonks would have been overjoyed to have me back, they wouldn't have wanted me to waste my second chance at life moping over battles I could have fought, and friends I know I will see again in due time." She looked up at him, her crying temporarily ceased, but her eyes still full of tears. He gently raised a hand and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. "You did not fail me, not now, not ever. You've done nothing unforgivable, nothing to make you unlovable... You have a lot of friends that care and are worried about you." he said softly looking straight into her amber pools. " I worry about you..." he continued, cradling her face. " I care about you 'Mione...I always have." he confessed, he avoided her gaze as her head shot up to stare at him in disbelief. She could not remember the last time he had called her that, and she had not allowed anyone else since to use that name; before the veil, before the war was real and death was an every-day occurrence, when they had still had a little innocence left about them... Did he really mean what she thought he did? He was staring at her interlaced fidgeting fingers, which after a moment's pause unlaced and wrapped about his two. He raised his head uncertainly.

"Harry let me keep your motor-bike." she whispered smiling slightly at him.

"Merlin's pants, I thought for sure he would have sold it. What on Earth would you want that rusted piece of junk for anyway? Remus told me you were terrified of flying."

"I am." she replied quietly, pulling back her bathrobe to reveal she was wearing a man's shirt, one that was baggy and far too big for her; she looked rather like Harry had while living on his cousin Dudley's throwaways; it was one of his. "But it was something of yours. Something to hold on to you with." she whispered, now it was her turn to avoid his gaze. "When you left, I felt horrible; all you ever heard was me complaining about you: confusing Harry and James, how childish you were, how you could never have a serious moment ever...And when you were gone I realized how much of it I didn't mean, how much more I wanted to tell you... to say... How much I loved some of the same things I would complain about... How I pushed you away... because I knew you could never feel the way I felt about you..." she whispered softly, looking down at their hands, still in each others, for a moment, Sirius did too. Then, without a word, because words had always been for men like Remus, and he was a man of action, he pulled his hands from hers, and brought them to her cheeks, gently cupping her face before leaning in toward her and kissing her. Her initial shock did not last, for a moment or so later, she wrapped her arms around his neck and began kissing him back, demanding of him the more passionate, all-consuming kisses she knew he was capable of giving, and he obliged her.

"I love you 'Mione." he whispered softly in her ear, as he kissed her neck. He felt a tear slide down her cheek and kissed it away.

"And I love you, Sirius Black." she whispered smiling. Merlin, he would do whatever it took, he decided, to see her smile like that always. He would be happy, just to never see her again, so disparaged as she had been when first he had arrived on her doorstep.

"Come home with me." he whispered suddenly. "The others would love to see you. It would be selfish of me to keep you from them." He said finally, a hint of regret in his voice.

She frowned a little; it was not like the Sirius she had known to be self-sacrificing. It was an admirable trait really, and she was quite proud of him; that he had taken some of her criticism to heart. He had obviously matured beyond the veil where Azkaban had stunted him just after his schoolboy years. But she didn't want him to be self-sacrificing, not now at least. He had been beginning to stand up, brush himself off and presumably prepare to apparate, but she grabbed his wrist sharply before he could whisk them off to number 12. It occurred to her suddenly, that perhaps he was afraid that she would regret this. That she would soon change her mind about her feelings for him, and was trying to gracefully offer her an escape; though his eyes were still gleaming, looking on her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, unabashedly adoring. She smiled slightly, part of him was still a child, neither death or Azkaban, it seemed, had robbed him of all of his innocence. For a moment, she was taken aback by his need of confirmation that she loved him, as though he thought he didn't deserve it, as though he were waiting for her to come to her senses. She was not going to change her mind.

"You could be selfish, for just a little while longer." she whispered, biting her lip nervously, still gripping his wrist tightly, running her thumb across the back of his hand affectionately, smiling softly up at him. She willed her eyes to be as full of love as the deep brown ones that stared back at her in surprise, willing him to see her immovable commitment and infinite faith and love for him. He grinned, climbing back onto the couch on top of her.

"Refresh an old man's forgetful memory, where were we?" he teased. "Oh, yes." he chuckled, smiling as she giggled up at him, before pulling him down into a kiss.


End file.
